2000
by FourTrisTheFortress
Summary: Two thousand years can change a person. (Companion to Forgotten)
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

**Started: December 6, 2014**

**A/N: If ****you haven't read ****_Forgotten_****, you might want to do that before reading this. They go together. ****If you don't, you won't understand what's going on... And that'll be pretty unfortunate on your part, because I won't be explaining ****_Forgotten_****'s whole summary to you. You'll have to read it yourself, I'm sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, Rick Riordan does.**

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><p>Us.<p>

How, mortal, would you picture us with your feeble mind, an elite team of assassins?

Now, now. Shh. Don't think about it too much. We wouldn't want you dying of some kind of spontaneous combustion. Just put an image of one of us in your mind.

Do you picture a form donned in tight, light-as-air clothes that don't weigh us down? Do you picture a cloak that hides a thousand pockets and the innumerable dangers hiding within them? And lastly, do you picture the swords we hold? The knives? How about their sheaths?

Ah, let's not get ahead of ourselves on the subject. You'd better think again with the strange masks we wear, because we don't. No, much to your strongly inclined thoughts, assassins are allowed to show their faces to their victims. Well, right before they die, that is. But I won't get too technical on that. Clothes are the least of our problems here.

Why no masks, you ask? The answer is simple: respect. Lord Chaos had drilled that into each and every one of us. It was all about the respect as professional killers.

But, see, here's the one similarity between us and your imagination's different assassins: we were trained to be hardcore, stealthy, and (the biggest one in my opinion) silent. And everybody focuses on that one aspect of an assassin's life.

Silence.

To the contrary, that isn't much of a surprise. It's always the silence, it seemed. We weren't assassins if we were silent, we were told. But nobody paid any interest in how we were trained, how _we_ felt about the situation. No, all anyone cared about was the end result: how we fought. How we fought and our master that everyone wanted to target. I almost felt bad for the poor guy, really.

You see, we were trained in the art of death, of swordsmanship, of archery, of valor, and of victory. That's why we _always_ win, hint, hint. Oh, how one's weapon could sink within a tired heart is innumerable. I quite liked those kinds of infinity possibilities to get the job done… There's the poisoned arrow, the poisoned knife, the poisoned—well you get the idea. Yes, poison. Why all the poison? It's a key to most successes, this potion. We were told later that who holds the poison holds the victory. We never left the base without it.

If not for the poison, who were we? Assassins, of course. We didn't need poison to stop a heart, although it was strongly preferred over the mess a knife made. Offensive tactics always go through our minds, even as we sleep. That made sleeping a living hell, but if we thought nothing as we slept, how were we alive? That was the question everyone wanted the answer to. It'll do you well to remember that, I'm sure.

The life of an assassin is hard, filled with lonely days. Because of our prowess, no backup is needed, unlike most of your soldiers. One being, Lord Chaos had stated, was more than enough to sneak into a building and kill off two dozen attackers.

Lord Chaos, you ask? What of Lord Chaos? Yes, now what would we be doing if he never gathered us assassins together under one huge roof? Well, we'd all be _normal_—living among the mortals. Normal lives, normal looks, and normal personalities. No swords ending lives, no poison trickling through veins. Our one and only savior turned us into what we are today: a group of ten, known all around the world. Don't get us wrong; we praise our lord and savior every single day for without him we would be nothing but dead corpses buried six feet under. We owe our lord our very lives.

Why, you ask, am I informing you of this?

The answer, unlike the last, is quite a complex one, I'm sure. Because I've been broken again and again. Because I've been restored much better than my former glory, in fact.

Because I am someone you knew once more; I can't say I was ever the same though.

Because I am the dead Percy Jackson. I have arisen much more.

And this is my story: my path of assassin. My story through loss, through soul, and through the memories that haunted me since before the beginning of day one.

Join me through these few years of flashbacks, mortal. And learn what it's like to be real, saving the lives of others, not just yourself.

Saving the world, you ask? What happened with saving the world? That's old news, mortal. Don't get stuck living in the past. That might just kill you.

Instead, do me one ultimate favor before it's too late. Start living in the future. Save a life or two, then you'd know. You'd know a glimpse of my life before I even informed you or shared some of my memories. Only then will you understand.

This is now, mortal. And now can be changed. Now can shape your tomorrow.

It'd do you well to remember that.


	2. A Note on Things

_**A Note on Things**_

_**(Around chapter two in **_**Forgotten****_.)_**

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><p>Look, I'm not saying joining Lord Chaos is the way to go.<p>

I'm not saying that if Lord Chaos _did_ find you, he'd automatically recruit you into his company. I'm not saying he'd beg you to join and if you didn't he'd force you, either.

No, you're horribly mistaken. Do me a favor, mortal, and sit down. Hell, sit down on a chair of nails for all I cared. At least then you might get it through your head.

I'm telling you now: the lord does not accept weaklings in his army, much less mortals. A snap of his fingers is all it takes to turn a mortal like you into dust. That's it. Not very pleasant, I'm sure.

You'd have to be born with a greater destiny than presently to prove your worth; born of the blood of the gods would give you an edge, I tell you. And born of mortal and godly blood, the proportions exactly half? That would give you an even better chance for your journey would start at around the age of twelve.

First you'd have to make it to one of two camps: Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter. From there, train. Train day and night. And then? Well, a quest would be in order if the time allowed. If not... you've been less inclined a spot in Lord Chaos's army.

Me, I guessed I should have considered myself lucky. I went on a quest each of my years after I turned twelve, and it only went downhill from there. My last quest decided my fate, and I had fortunately made the right choice: I handed Luke Castellan that dagger.

That was when Lord Chaos started watching. Or so I've heard. There was a good chance it could have simply been a lie.

You know what? I can't trust Zoe. I'll pay Chaos a visit myself later. Nyx tends to spend her mornings with Chaos, and getting vaporized isn't on my list of to-dos. Meeting my daughter Artemis is, for today is the first time in a year I get the chance to go home to my wonderful family.

But that's irrelevant, unfortunately. Mortals like you wouldn't care of my family. Of my daughter. Of my future plans. No, all your kind cares more than an inkling of is _war_. Bloodlust. Being at your lowest point, you were open for the greatest amount of change.

Change. Now that's exactly what it takes to have Lord Chaos come to you, to ask you if you'd give up your life and a start a new one under his presence. His guidance. Chances are you'd accept.

Nevertheless, I wasn't one with those kinds of chances. At first I'd refused. I thought I would be able to fix things, to go back to the way it always was for me. To replace the happiness I once felt with my girlfriend to something else: swordsmanship. It didn't work out as permanently as I'd hoped.

Lord Chaos was persistent, I'd give him that. Lord Chaos understood where I was coming from. He waited the week without complaint. One faithful Monday was when it all changed. But that's a story for another day.

I tell you now: Lord Chaos is rare to come across. You're better off being guided by the stars than you are Chaos. Chaos is busy, you know, with paperwork. He doesn't like computers. Again, another irrelevant fact.

I suppose what I'm trying to say, mortal, is that Lord Chaos probably won't come to you when you're confused, or lost, or sad, or giving up. There's always light in that; you have only to find it in those situations.

Lord Chaos will find you only in certain times. Other than that... Well, there's a zero to never chance in that happening. Don't say I didn't warn you.

But who am I to talk? My recruiting was special. Special how? He waited. Lord Chaos isn't famous for his patience. No, quite the contrary. Again, irrelevant fact.

What I'd hoped to say, mortal, was that my life in these next couple pages isn't the most ideal life to have. Being a demigod was hard, and recruited as a soldier of Chaos was even harder. More pressure was put on my shoulders, battles grew worse for me. I remembered the beginning was hardest. The war against Kronos? That was a walk in the park for me compared to what I had to face during my training.

I'd hope to see the expression on your face once I'm done with my tale, mortal. I can only hope now. Before you let yourself run feral with questions, stop yourself. I'll spare you the questions by answering them for you.

Yes, it'll be short. I swear on the River Styx. Each date will be referred to the mortal day, luckily for you.

No, it won't be the "Dear diary" beginnings my lovely wife once told me of.

I'm not answering the next question.

And lastly, yes. I hope to cover my life after I joined. If not, well, my memory isn't the greatest, mortal. You'll just have to deal with that.

Any more questions on your behalf? No?

Then on with my life. Let the two thousand year journey begin.


	3. My Wise Girl

**Chapter One: My Wise Girl**

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><p>I guess I should explain how my assassin's life began in the first place. I wouldn't have become who I was presently if my ex-girlfriend hadn't done what she did when she did it.<p>

Looking back on it, I couldn't help but wince at the guise of my past self- when I was so pure-hearted, so very innocent. How could I even have joined Lord Chaos like this? How could I have turned so evil compared to before?

Now, now. Evil. Stay away from that cursed word. Pointing a finger and uttering the word "evil" might just actually turn someone evil, and me? A mortal like you wouldn't want to turn a potential enemy like me evil, would you? The safe answer would be no.

In the beginning, Chaos had stated it was an eye for an eye; a choice that could change me forever. Back then, changing my life wasn't exactly on my to-do list. I had delayed my reply for at least a week, telling Chaos I would think about it. I'll admit, I was uneasy for the things that could have happened back then. I didn't know how much that choice would alter my life. Believe my words, that choice continues its process to this very day, slowly but surely killing me inside.

But truthfully? I'm happy with it. I'm happy with the choices I'd made. I wouldn't have met my wife if I'd chosen another possibility. I would never have had my daughter with me now, or taught her the ways of the sword. The Ten would be a made-up number, not a single thought of select individuals that might have made up that team.

Enough of my brief historical glances. Let me tell you of the first choice that rippled through my lake of life.

It had started out the summer of the Second Titan War, after Kronos was defeated, mind you. It was when my girlfriend, the daughter of Athena, spat in my face one of the most grim phrases I dreaded hearing let alone seeing spoke. Yes, this particular girl had me smitten for years playing Nemesis's foolish version of 'hard to get.' Looking back on it, she had brightened up my life like a lightbulb. She had filled my life with excitement through my lively years.

Only here comes the irony in that: she didn't love me as I so strongly her. Sure, she listened to what I had to say, but did she mean it? No. Sure, she was a sympathetic shoulder to lean on, but did she mean that? No. It was all lost hopes and dreams for me.

So what if she was Olympus's official architect? I understood her busy hours well. We had talked about it, working something out in between her breaks. We were certain we weren't going to be saying goodbye for a while.

And we didn't. Sometimes Annabeth came down to Manhattan to meet me at a nearby coffee shop for lunch. Other times I visited her, surprising her with a picnic basket in one hand and a flower in the other.

The first couple of times I visited Annabeth for a picnic was okay. Great, even. A couple amount of sandwiches and bottles of Coka Cola. During this time, Annabeth would talk about her latest projects. Sometimes she would smile and talk of my father's shrine. She'd switch to the gods' latest gossip and finally her mortal family: how things were going with her step-mom, her father, and her two brothers.

I would nod and listen to her. Maybe take a swig of Coke in between sentences.

Annabeth's voice dragged me in, a sweet melody, as light as a feather drifting along a breeze. Each syllable was beautiful, making me wonder if the English language was designed to conform to Annabeth's voice from the beginning. She reminded me of an angel, purer than the goddess Aphrodite.

My girlfriend was happy, I was at peace, and Camp Half-Blood wasn't in the middle of a war. What more could a guy ask for? Everything was going fine until something in my girlfriend snapped, leaving me confused and given the job of picking up the pieces.

I didn't know what was going on. Had something changed between us? Had I said something wrong? Weren't we not meant for each other like we had originally thought? I faintly remembered at one point I started to think her mother had changed her point of view on me. Annabeth's values were flipped as well.

When I met up with Annabeth in Olympus, her nose was in a type of plan for Olympus 24/7. She grew cross with me over the littlest of things. One time it had been no olives on her pizza.

Giving it a month or two, I stopped visiting Annabeth for lunch. I didn't Iris-Message her anymore just as she had stopped two months before. I figured maybe Annabeth needed some time by herself.

I reached out for her one last time. Annabeth continued to give me the cold shoulder.

Despite this letdown, I resumed my normal activities. I refused to let my love life grab my center of attention; I wasn't some child of Aphrodite. I managed to keep my mind off her by scaling the lava wall, sparring with the Ares campers, and staying away from the bow and arrow. I dedicated double my time to the arena. There was a point in time even the Ares campers grew bored with my constant sparring that they brought out a handful of straw dummies and practiced outside.

It was as if Annabeth read my mind. As much time as I spent at the arena, Annabeth spent on Olympus. It turned from numerous days to weeks at a time. The weeks soon turned to months. It got so long, I was beginning to think she was seeing someone.

No, I told myself. My Wise Girl couldn't possibly cheat on me... Could she? Annabeth wouldn't actually do that.

I was wrong once again. Come to think about it, I had felt bad for my actions towards Annabeth. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was karma, or Nemesis, or even Aphrodite. With a desperate thought of Annabeth in my mind, I decided to go visit her, my possible ex-girlfriend, up on Olympus.

As it turned out, my thoughts were proven correct. Annabeth had been cheating on me. To this day, I still don't know why she traded all of our experiences, our conversations, and our secrets for the guy she'd probably met a couple months ago. I would have bet twenty of my drachmas that Annabeth didn't even know the poor soul's last name.

A polite exchange of words later and I had left Olympus, Annabeth's tears, and her crestfallen words of Olympus not wanting me anymore echoing through my ears as I stepped into the elevator. The drive back to Camp Half-Blood was a blur; I barely remembered it. That night as I sat thinking at the lake, I decided to leave. It wasn't long before I had my bags packed. I left Annabeth, her new boyfriend, my friends, and soon all of Camp Half-Blood. I marched straight past those borders at midnight.

And it was the best decision I had ever made.

Because not an hour later, Lord Chaos had paid an orphan-like me a visit as I was walking through the forest to the city. I was scared at first. I didn't know how to respond.

Chaos saved me the first words by being straightforward with it. He told me who he was, Chaos, and the army he had. He addressed me as Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon and Sally Jackson, and said he came with a proposal.

I told Chaos to stop being so formal and hurry up with the proposal. Chaos had laughed it off, but I hadn't regretted my actions. Unmannerly, I was sure, but when did a primordial like Chaos visit demigods like myself? Chaos described his proposal, adding in I could decline if I wanted.

He'd snapped of his fingers then, and a campfire emerged. With a gesture on his part, I sat across from him, reluctant of what he was trying to do. It wasn't everyday Chaos visited a halfblood. Clearing his throat, Chaos gave me that choice, a positive thing he'd wanted me to think about. He'd said I could envision my life the way I wanted with no gods or prophecies getting in my way.

Sure, it had sounded nice, but I wasn't so sure.

Chaos explained I could start a new life there, with a new identity. I would get the proper swordsmanship training and be deemed a master. I could go on quests, I could even become one of the Ten- an elite team of warriors- and be allowed among the council with Chaos. Then, I could vote on what wars to engage in. My say would influence the decisions of all of Chaos's army.

I wanted so badly to accept. My life was in the gutters. I could still turn it around, but how? When Annabeth finished her construction on Olympus, she'd go back to Camp Half-Blood. Things would get awkward. Just staring at her in the pavilion on my way to dinner... No. That wasn't going to happen. Unless I dedicated my time to quests, there wasn't much I could do to turn things around from Annabeth to other things, and there were few quests the gods were giving out now that their attention was turned to Olympus's construction.

I painstakingly told Chaos of my plans to change my life here at Camp Half-Blood. Chaos had raised an eyebrow, asking why I was running away from the place I spoke of going back to.

I wasn't prepared for his reply at all. I mumbled out some weak response about figuring things out with Olympus before Chaos nodded slowly. I could tell he disapproved of my answer.

The primordial then informed me he'd come in exactly a week to ask again. If I declined, I was all out of chances. The consequences would be on me, he said, and he would erase my memory of ever speaking to him.

Funny how long the week actually played out.

With the handful of mortal money I'd brought with me, I bought about a two day's supply of protein bars. Yeah, yeah. I know. But _you_ try figuring out what to buy for ten dollars that would have to fill you up for at least seven days.

During this week, I spent my time walking through Manhattan. It was there I slowly but steadily made it to my mom's apartment. In fact, the apartment had been only a short distance away when the seventh day rolled around and Chaos appeared before me.

Unfortunately, that had been a bad time. Maybe it was because Manhattan was a huge city or because some demigods lived here and weren't aware of it, but more than one hellhound had chased me through the streets. I was running as fast as my legs could take me, but that still wasn't enough.

With my mom's apartment just about a lengthy mile away, the hellhounds got closer. One of them jumped in front of me. I had barely avoided it, taking an unexpected turn into the dead end of an alleyway. Surrounded, I turned around, uncapping my sword.

The hellhounds stalked closer before I jumped at them. I managed to get two cuts on one when the other pounced. I was driven to the ground, bits of rock in my mouth. Anaklusmos had fallen out of my grasp. I spit the dirt out of my mouth and rolled out of the hellhounds' path.

Despite my roll, they advanced quickly. I was about to scream for help when Chaos appeared, a streak of blinding white light. As quick as the hellhounds had reacted, they dispersed. Chaos didn't move until they were out of sight.

With an amused expression, he helped me up. He asked again if I considered joining.

Truthfully, I hadn't thought at all about his proposal. I was just grateful to be alive.

Then again, here was a guy offering me a new life. A new "quest," per se. I could start all over and remake myself. I didn't have to be Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, anymore. I could come up with another identity. Even one of those ridiculous names like Aion, as Chaos had suggested, would suffice.

I had laughed at Chaos's choice of name. Chaos looked bewildered at my expression, but he'd shrugged it off.

_Come, Perseus_, he repeated. _Join my company. You will achieve far more under my guidance than you will with the Olympians._

_How? _I remembered asking. _I may hate them, but they're still my family. I can't just abandon them. I saved them last year, Chaos._

_You'll fake your death,_ Chaos promised. _You've run away and you're in a city with monsters around every corner. A death here will be fairly easy to imitate._

_And my mom? Her apartment is only so close. What will she say when she hears I died? I can't just leave her. She and Paul are all I have..._

Chaos gave me a sympathetic look. _I'm sorry, child. Some things cannot be spoken of, even to your mother._

_Why not? _I had demanded.

_It_ _isn't_ _my place, nor is it yours._

_Annabeth left me. I can't leave my family too._

_No, _Chaos agreed. _You cannot. But the beginning is always the hardest._

_Could I visit her after I joined you?_

He sighed. _At times, Perseus. Perhaps every year._

_Then I've got nothing to lose, _I figured. I remembered looking up at Chaos a final time, smiling a faint, crooked smile. _Alright, Chaos. I'll join you._

And at that reply, Chaos wasn't disappointed.


End file.
